When Hell Freezes Over
by Connecticut Junkie the Second
Summary: Wonderful. Professor Eric F*%@#ng Northman returns with a lesson on Human Sexuality.


When Hell Freezes Over

By Connecticut Junkie

True Blood is not mine. Sequel to "Forever and a Day." Set after Season 3 but unrelated to anything in Season 4.

Rated: R or M or whatever. It is rife with foul language and has some…alternative sexual situations? I don't know how to phrase it. Anyhow, no kids allowed.

Summary: Wonderful. Professor Eric F*^#ing Northman returns with a new lecture on Historical Sexuality.

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><p>It had been six days since Eric had snuck some of his bastard blood into her, and Sookie had already had ten dreams. This morning there had been a storm, and the sound of rain and thunder had lulled her back to sleep despite her best efforts to get up.<p>

Huge mistake. She'd had several vivid and detailed dreams within a few hours. But tonight she was off, and determined to do something, anything to keep from thinking about him. _Jeopardy! _was on, and that was perfect. Sookie couldn't think of anything less sexy or provocative than _Jeopardy! _After three minutes, the flaw in her plan became apparent. Now all she could picture was Eric bending her over the contestant booth while he rammed into her from behind. He was also probably saying some smarmy double entendre, like "I'll take 'Tight Spaces' for 800, Alex."

So she welcomed the knock on her front door, expecting it to be Jason looking for a free dinner.

As it turned out, he probably was looking for a free dinner, but it definitely wasn't Jason.

"What are you doing here?"

Eric leaned on the porch rail and looked around, taking in the mess that was still left after Maryann's reign of terror. Sookie had tried to use cleaning as a form of therapy, but there was a lot of damage that was beyond what a soapy bucket and her nonexistent budget could fix.

"Inspecting the roof damage that was bad enough to force you into talking to me after many months, yet not bad enough to remain on your mind after I gave you physical release. Also, you've had my blood and I could feel that you've been somewhat…agitated."

Her blush was part shame and part wonderful memory of that physical release. "You'll have to fly up and see it because I'm not inviting you in. And I am _not_ agitated."

"Defiant to the core." He smiled almost sadly. "You don't fear my fangs or my power."

She rolled her eyes. "Annoying, isn't it? Must get under your skin that you can't push me around like everyone else."

"Yes. I can't decide if that makes you charming or stupid."

She cocked her hip and straightened her shoulders. Added in a hair toss. "It's charming." Big fat lie. She knew it was stupid.

It was his turn to roll his eyes. Slightly. She narrowed hers in return.

He shrugged. "It's okay. Because now I know what you are afraid of."

"Spiders?" she offered.

"Me." He leaned back even further on the railing post and crossed his arms.

"Do you have vampire Alzheimer's? We already established that I am _not_ afraid of you, Eric Northman."

"You _are_ afraid of me. Not of the vampire sheriff of Area 5 but of me." He lazily ran his hand up and down, as if to say, 'me, this awesome and incredibly well put together package.' Sookie couldn't help it. She did take a look at his package.

Of course, he noticed. "The idea of sex with me leaves you quaking."

"I am _not_ quaking."

"Yes you are. It makes your tits jiggle."

Her arms crossed over her chest instinctively.

"Good little girls don't give themselves up to bad, evil vampires, do they? And you are such a good girl, Sookie."

She didn't particularly care for the way he said 'good.' He made it sound dirty. And she didn't particularly care for the way that made the hair on her neck stand up and her belly flutter. She snorted. "It's not because you're a vampire, it's because you're an asshole."

He pushed off the railing and stepped closer to her. She didn't back up. Because she was _not_ afraid of him. "Then why are you quivering?"

Her breath hitched in her throat. "Solid as a rock."

"No, that would be me."

_Don't look don't look don't look_, she screamed at herself. "Don't think you're special, Eric. Bill hurt me with a powerful, sad country song kind of hurt. So it's not just you. I will not be having sex with _anyone_ for a while."

He smirked. "Define 'sex'."

She could feel the blush creep up her face. "You're like a thousand years old. You know it."

"I know it in every way you can think of, and then some. That is why I'm asking for _you,_ Sookie, to define what you believe to be sex."

Fine. She could play his game. "Well, for starters there will definitely be no dick going in my pussy." There. She even used the naughty words.

It did not have the desired effect on him. All it earned her was a slightly raised eyebrow. "Tell me, Sookie, do you shave your armpits?"

"Wha?" was all she could answer with. Without realizing, she crossed her arms even tighter. Why was he so _weird_? Talking with him was like trying to follow a ping pong game while drunk.

He tisked, and shook his head. "So many of you modern American women do." He ran a finger from her shoulder down her arm, circling her wrist with his hand. She tried to uncross her arms to slap him away, but he held tight, and lifted her arm over her head. His other hand pressed against her stomach, pushing her back against the rough siding of her house.

"What is wrong with you?" she asked rhetorically. She knew he wouldn't answer or ever acknowledge that he was anything other than perfection, but she felt the situation called for someone to realize this was nuts.

He pressed his forehead to hers. "You."

He said it so low she wasn't sure if she heard it. And then he was sinking to his knees, nuzzling her neck before his nose was in her armpit.

Christ on a biscuit.

Their height difference put his face right on her chest level, but for once he was ignoring her breasts to run his nose along the outer edge of her pectoral muscle. She sent up a silent prayer thanking God for making this happen on a day when she was freshly shaved, before realizing that if God really cared about her he wouldn't be putting her in a situation where a vampire sniffed her damn armpit.

"Stop," was what she finally came up with when the power of speech returned.

"This is not my dick, and this is not your pussy," was his answer, as if that excused everything. He pressed a quick kiss to her underarm before leaning back to look at her face. "Did you know, Sookie, that back when society placed more emphasis on abstinence until marriage, one of the recommended methods of release was the soft folds of a nicely lubed armpit?"

Wonderful. Professor Eric Fucking Northman returns with a new lecture on Historical Sexuality. "Fuck my life," she muttered.

That was apparently what Eric considered to be code for 'please elaborate.' He brought her arm down halfway and rested his head on her breast. "See that little hollow? Imagine letting your hair grow so it was soft instead of stubble." His other hand snaked up and two fingers slid along her underarm. She laughed despite her best effort not to.

"Ticklish, lover?"

"No." It wasn't that convincing when she was still laughing while denying it.

His fingers stroked her again, and she tried to wiggle away. The more she fought, the more his fingers found all her ticklish spots. When his other hand got her in the ribs she lost control and slid to the ground gracelessly. "Stop!" she begged over and over between ragged breaths and giggles.

"What will you give me to stop?"

She never thought she could laugh so hard while being so angry. "Nothing!"

"Nothing?" His fingers dove deeper into her ribs.

"FINE!" she yelled, and he eased his ministrations at the defeat in her voice. "You can…" she desperately searched for something that might placate him but leave her relatively unscathed. "You can lick my armpit."

Okay, that was pretty lame, she thought. And gross. He wasn't gonna take it.

"Deal."

"What? Really?"

He held his hand out to her and without thinking she took it, letting him help her up off the porch floor. "Yes. How else would it become nicely lubed?"

She remembered his words from before and mentally kicked herself for being an idiot. He was three moves ahead of her. Like always. "I just said lick. I didn't say you could fuck it."

He shrugged. "Fine. I'll have one of the fangbangers finish me off when I get back."

Sookie tried to ignore the immediate and unwanted spike of jealousy that shot through her. She couldn't tell if he was serious and crass, or lying and testing her. Either way, she didn't like it. And she didn't like that she didn't like it. Since when did she care if Eric fucked other girls?

With a self-satisfied smirk, he settled onto her porch swing. When she didn't join him, when she didn't even move, he reached out and pulled her down, moving so fast it was just a blur. He had settled her onto his lap so that she straddled him, but not close enough so that his straining jeans pressed against her. The fact that he hadn't taken advantage of the situation brought her back from her trip to Jealoustown.

She felt him use her ponytail like a rudder and tilt her head so she was looking right at him. The smirk was gone. "You, Sookie Stackhouse, are the only woman who can satisfy me with just her armpit."

As far as compliments went, she'd had better. Sweet, romantic words wrapped up in ribbons of charm. And none of them had used the word 'armpit'. But his tone was serious, and his eyes were full of wonder, as if even he had not realized the depths of what she did to him.

Except…_armpit._

"Just do it already," she muttered, and held out her arm.

The wonder faded from his eyes, and she found herself missing it. It was so rare, she chided herself for snapping at him when normally she was desperate for him to show anything close to emotion.

He kissed her wrist, and she wanted to point out that she had not given him permission for that, but it seemed harmless enough.

She heard Eric's fangs slide out, and braced herself for a bite that never came. She watched, mesmerized, as he ran them lightly up her arm, leaving tiny twin trails of red.

"It doesn't hurt," she marveled, not realizing she was talking out loud.

Eric's eyes stayed on her face while he lapped up the blood from wrist to elbow.

"Why are you convinced that I always want to hurt you?" He licked a stray drop of blood from the corner of his mouth, and Sookie was fascinated with the way his tongue curled.

"You may not want to, but you do anyhow."

He kissed the crook of her elbow, her skin there so thin it felt like her racing blood would pulse right through. "I have tried to make it up to you, but you stubbornly refuse my kindness."

"Oh, please. Your idea of 'kindness' is definitely not the kind they talk about in church."

"Sookie, could you _kindly_ shut the fuck up and enjoy yourself for once?"

Flabbergasted, she had nothing to respond with. He continued upwards, following the blue roadmap of her vein that was visible on the pale underside of her arm. Tomorrow she would lie out with her arms over her head and tan until she was golden everywhere.

His tongue slid from the soft skin at the top of her arm and into the crease of her armpit. She wanted to find it unpleasant but he was swirling small circles that made her shudder. They increased in circumference, until he was closer to the edge of her chest, and it took all her willpower not to slide over a couple inches until her breast was in his mouth.

A mewling noise caught her attention and her face flushed when she realized it was her own. She could practically feel the satisfied smirk against her skin. "Good girl," he rasped between licks, and Sookie briefly wondered if she was no longer immune to glamour. If he had asked her to lie down and spread her legs in that voice, she just might have done it.

Perhaps she could turn the tables. "Not fair. You get to fulfill your little fantasy but I don't get anything in return."

Eric changed the angle of his head so that his chin dragged across her breast, sending a frisson of pleasure shooting from her nipple to her core and back around to her extremities. One arm in particular. She bit her lip and clenched her fists to keep her hands from grabbing his head and burying it in her breasts. He chuckled, the sound vibrating through her skin. "I beg to differ. You are most definitely enjoying this."

The thin tank top she was wearing felt like it was made of wool. Her skin was heated and prickling, itching everywhere the cotton touched her. She was dying to take it off and feel the night breeze cool her bare skin where his touch couldn't cover. Sookie tried to clear the lustful haze from her mind. She had arguing to do.

"Am not."

His mouth migrated along the edge of her shoulder strap and over the ridge of her muscle. There was no bra underneath to fuss with, as she had been home and not expecting company. "Are too," he countered, and he was so close. Maybe it wouldn't kill her to give in. Just a little.

She used her free hand on the other side to catch the hem of her tank top. "Stop," she commanded, forcefully and very, very believably.

"Not yet. I am also enjoying this."

She twisted away from him a little. Just a little, while still holding tightly to the hem. She could feel the tank top stretch, feel the sliver of newly exposed skin tingle as the night air hit it briefly before being replaced by his kiss. Opportunistic as always.

It wasn't enough. God help her, it wasn't enough and she was going to break.

Instead of shattering, maybe she could just crack. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to just get some relief. Maybe he was right. It was inevitable.

Her hand fisted tighter in her shirt. She pushed the arm he was holding against the immobile wall of his strength, and pretended with the best acting ability she had to try to twist herself out of his grasp.

The sob of relief as her breast popped free almost ruined what she thought might have been her best performance. It got lost, luckily, in the growl he let loose. Yesterday she had sunbathed topless to get rid of the hideous white triangle lines her bikini normally left, and apparently he enjoyed the result. He lapped up the small rivulet of sweat in the crease of her breast and breathed deeply.

"When I was human," he began slowly, as if in a trance, and Sookie tried not to even breathe for fear it might break his recollection, "the summers were short but the days were long. Hour after hour of sunlight. Everything was warm, compared to the bitter winter days, and if there was time to be had after the work was done we would lay out naked in the fields and soak it in." His tongue traced up towards her nipple. "I had nearly forgotten that," he added, almost to himself.

And finally, finally he took her nipple into his mouth. She felt the slightest pinch, and could feel each slow pull he took rocket up and down her spine.

_Fuck,_ she thought, as she felt her orgasm take her. _He wins again_.

Her legs must have given out because she found herself slumped against him, the swing rocking slowly back and forth. Between the swing's motion and his hand drawing soothing circles on her back she found herself relaxing. It was almost soothing, and she was tempted to stay where she was and bask in the afterglow. "Wow," she whispered involuntarily, immediately regretting it when his chest rumbled with laughter.

Fuckwaffles. There would be no putting up with him now.

"If you thought that was good, just wait until my dick does go in your pussy."

That comment was the impetus she needed to scrabble off him and come to her senses. "No. No, no, no."

He stood up and stepped closer to her. "Methinks the lady doth protest too much."

Apparently her arched brow revealed her surprise. "Yes, Sookie, I know how to _read_. For almost nine hundred years now."

"Well isn't that something."

"You'll find that I'm full of surprises."

"You're full of baloney."

"I could fill you with my baloney."

"How do you make _everything _dirty?"

"Many years of experience. You think six hours with Yvetta was impressive, just imagine the stamina I have with someone I actually like."

She felt the heat in her cheeks as he brought up that distant memory. Now it was replaying in a loop on her head, except she was the one tied up and getting pounded. It was an incredibly tempting, incredibly terrible idea. "The things I could teach you…" he trailed off as his eyes went glassy and Sookie could only imagine what pornography was going on in his brain.

"No thank you. There will be no more lessons. Professor Northman's classes are cancelled."

"Professor?"

And now he knew her secret name for him. Wonderfuckingfull.

He grinned. "I think I like the concept of teaching you." He hooked his finger in the hem of her tank top. "Lesson one: if you wear another Denmark jersey I will rip it off of you and burn it. Whether we are alone or in the company of others."

She smirked despite her anger, satisfied that the outfit she'd worn the last time she'd seen him had done its job. Finally, score one for Sookie.

"Lesson Two: I enjoy a challenge. So if you tell me your pussy is not accepting dick at this time, then I'll oblige you."

She snorted. "Really, you're gonna back off of trying to get in my pants? I'll believe it when I see it."

"How quickly we forget that I got you off not two minutes ago with absolutely no penetration."

"Must be all the head trauma I keep suffering from helping you out with your dumb vampire shit."

"Or perhaps it's because all the blood from your head is now in your pussy."

"Classy."

"Unlike you, Sookie, I don't claim to be. You know what I want from you and yet you still insist on coming around me." He smirked. "No pun intended."

"Only when absolutely necessary. Like when my roof is about to collapse."

"Well, next time it's _necessary_ for you to stop by and discuss how we can fix your roof why don't you wear one of your little sundresses. I like them, even if they come from Wal-Mart. It makes it easy to lift your skirt and eat that delicious pussy of yours."

Sookie slapped him before she could even think of what she was doing. Sure, she'd done it before, but it had been incredibly stupid then and was still incredibly stupid now.

"That's off the menu, too."

He pouted and rubbed his cheek where her hand had landed. "Too bad. I was looking forward to tasting human food again."

With a huff, she straightened out her top. "Ugh. You are so raunchy, I swear! Do you really think statements like that are gonna make me change my mind?"

"Yes."

"No."

"One day."

"Never."

"Soon."

Infuriated, though perhaps more with herself than with him, Sookie reached forward and grabbed his cock through his pants. She squeezed hard, hard enough to hurt if he had been human. As it was, she realized that he seemed to enjoy it. "When Hell freezes over," she spit out through her teeth before releasing him and going back into her house where he could not follow. She could hear his chuckle from outside, and wished she could open the door just to slam it again.

"Until next time, Ms. Stackhouse," she heard him call through the door, followed by a whoosh of air that angered her more than his smarmy, filthy words did. It wasn't fair that a dickhead like him somehow got the gift of flight.

"You wish," she shot back, even though she knew he was probably too far away to hear her. "I hope he flies into a power line," she muttered to herself.

Frustrated, at least mentally, because physically she felt pretty damn good which only made her more mentally frustrated, she paced her living room. She felt like screaming, or kicking. Or breaking something.

She gave in. She screamed and kicked the couch. Better, but not great. _Okay, Sook. Time to break something._ Fucknuggets. Almost everything she saw had some kind of sentimental value.

While looking around for something, anything, that wasn't an item of Gran's, her phone chirped and distracted her. Fantastic. A text from 'Eric Fucking Northman.' That was how she programmed him in and that was how he was going to stay in her contacts list. At least until she got her new roof. Then she could delete the douchebag.

_Probably just a picture of his dick_, she thought, and debated on opening it. Curiosity won. It was weather report for "Hell, Norway." Expecting flurries and temperatures of -3 degrees Celsius.

Just as she furrowed her brow, doing the mental calculations, another text came in. "Water freezes at 0 degrees Centigrade, so get that sweet American pussy ready for Professor Northman."

The phone shattered into hundreds of shards of plastic and circuits as it hit the wall. It had never been Gran's anyway.

-end-

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><p>This one shot seems to be turning into a longer thing. I have some ideas that didn't make it into this so you never know. There might be more to come. Special thank you to any readers in Norway, Sweden, or Denmark, as I just got back from vacationing in your lovely countries and all the sunbathing you did was directly responsible for the little glimpse into Eric's past.<p>

Thanks for reading!

P.S. Sorry about the armpit sex. I had read that somewhere many years ago and it just popped into my head and became a story. I promise it's not a fetish thing and won't be showing up in subsequent stories.


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